


Build Me Back Up (And I'll Do The Same)

by Rinielle



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VIII: The Last Jedi (2017)
Genre: Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:38:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinielle/pseuds/Rinielle
Summary: As the Millennium Falcon flies them - at last - out of the reach of the First Order, the reality of their situation comes crashing down on Poe.





	Build Me Back Up (And I'll Do The Same)

It wasn’t exactly as though privacy was much of a thing on D’Qar, or even really on any of the resistance bases. There was always something happening in just about every section, drills to be run, meetings to be had, and plans to be made. Even their quarters were not entirely their own, sharing two sometimes even four to a room.

In some ways it was nice. You were never alone. There was always someone there to talk to, to laugh with, always a shoulder to cry on.

But there were times when it could get to much, and when that happened, those bases had had their quiet places. Their empty places. Places you could go to sit, and think and remember. Places where you could press pause and not be at war for a few moments. If you knew where to look.

Poe had always known where to look wherever he went. If one of his usual haunts was occupied he had five or six others. He didn’t need them often. But it had always been good to know they were there.

He needed one now. Needed to be alone.

But he didn’t know where to look.

In the immediate aftermath, with the exhilaration of escape, of being alive, and of finally meeting Rey, he hadn’t fully taken stock of just where they were at.

He still hadn’t but he knew that of the three to four hundred souls who had left D’Qar, there were maybe forty, forty five left. He hadn’t yet had the heart to do a full head count. He could barely bring himself to look a single one of them in the eye, never mind assign them a survivor number. He needed to process. Needed just a minute or two to himself to regroup. Yet despite their dwindled numbers, there didn’t seem to be a single place on board that wasn’t occupied by someone.

He had walked the entire length of ship three times, ignoring General Organa’s gentle advice to sit down. He couldn’t sit down. Not where the others were. Not yet.

Eventually his wonderings brought him back to the cockpit, where Chewbacca was in a rather intense staring competition with a strange wide eyed little critter Poe had never seen before. He’d been there twice before and they hadn’t yet moved. When he walked in for the third time however Chewbacca, without breaking eye contact with the creature, made a rumbling growl at him. He cursed himself for not paying more attention when C3PO had tried to explain the Wookie language. A few moments later Chewbacca made the same noise again, this time motioning with his arm at the empty co-pilot seat. 

Poe stared at it. For the first time really feeling aware of where he was. Under any other circumstances he knew he’d be in that chair in a moment, his eyes dancing over the controls, taking it all in, beyond himself with undisguised excitement.

The Falcon. The Millennium Falcon. Everyone in the galaxy knew what this ship represented. It meant Hope. Safety. Victory. Even against impossible odds. It was every pilots dream to fly this ship. It had been his dream for as long as he could remember. The first time he had seen the ship had been after Starkiller Base, and he had barely had time to marvel at it before he saw Finn being carried out on a stretcher. He had still be by his side when Rey had taken off to find Luke Skywalker.

But now he was here. His fingers should be itching to run across those buttons, to take in every inch of the place, memorise it, learn it. 

It wasn’t that they weren’t, he was aware of what this ship meant, more than ever now that it had saved him and the others. But the excitement was tainted. Dulled by guilt. A buzzing underneath his skin he felt the need to bury.

He didn’t deserve to sit in that chair. 

Still Chewbacca made the gesture and growled again, this time louder, and sounding more than a little bit annoyed. Whatever Poe was feeling, his baser instincts kicked in to remind him that pissing off a Wookie was probably not a good idea.

He sat.

There were worse places to have chosen. At least Chewbacca and... whatever that thing was... were not a constant reminder of the last 24 hours. Besides which they were easy company. Quiet and too intent upon their staring contest to give even the impression of casting judgement upon him. It wasn’t alone, but it was as close as he was likely to get. He let himself forget that they were there, staring out instead at the passing stars.

\---

He didn’t know how much time passed. The galaxy flowed effortlessly onwards around them, and though he didn’t sleep, the never ending stream of stars had lulled him into a sort of calm detachment. It was a shock then, when Chewbacca had let out an angry wail, lashing out with his arm. The little creature had danced easily out of his reach, letting out a squawk of protest. Apparently it had won the staring contest.

“That’s bad luck bud,” Poe said idly, turning his gaze to the Wookie, who growled back with a shrug, calmer already. His irritation at losing seemingly momentary. He couldn’t be sure the exact words, but he seemed to be saying ‘You win some. You lose some’. And damn if that didn’t feel like the truth right now.

Just a week ago they had decimated StarKiller Base and felt like they were on top of the galaxy. And now... 

You win some... You lose...

And they had lost so much.

It had been sitting inside him for hours already, for all his bravado before.

_“We are the spark that’ll light fire that burns the First Order down”_

He heard himself say it in his head, but it suddenly sounded false, brash words, not even his own words, from a man with no idea how to live up to them. He felt it all, the whole day at once like a blast to the stomach. Every face and name he had known but hadn’t spied on his three tours around the ship was suddenly staring right at him. The ones he hadn’t known too. Somehow their gaze was even worse. He felt himself double over, feeling suddenly sick, retching nothing but air. His head span with the terrified faces of his ship mates as they made their desperate race to Crait. He jammed his eyes shut but it only made it worse. More vivid. Watching the other ships being picked off one by one. Waiting. Wondering if they would be next. In his head he heard the cries of the people on the other ships too. Even though he hadn’t. Couldn’t have. They were there all the same.

A moment later they were on Crait. The rumble of the First Order canon was suddenly deafening. Around him his remaining friends were being taken out one by one. He couldn’t remember their formation, who was where, except that he knew the one racing ahead, away from them, was Finn. _Not Finn_. He remembered thinking, and hating himself for it. _Please not Finn_! But he was already too far away for even the best pilot in the resistance to stop him.

On the edge of his thoughts he could hear another sort of cry. Deep and guttural, it sounded like a cry for help. He wanted to tell it to stop. That he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t even help Finn. Someone shouted his name. 

A strong pair of hands gripped him suddenly. For half a second he was back on the Finalizer, arms clamped into that chair. Kylo Ren leaning over him, demanding he tell him where the rest of the resistance were. He could already feel him tearing his mind apart. Then, quite suddenly, he was yanked free. Pulled out of the chair to stand. “Poe!” was being shouted in his face and he knew that voice.

Blinking frantically and taking a huge gulping breath that made his vision swim his eyes latched onto the figure in front of him, still holding tightly to his shoulders as if worried he might fall. They came into focus slowly. He took another deep breath, trying to remember what his mother had taught him when he was young. The face in front of him was familiar.

“Buddy,” he choked out, his voice hoarse.

Because it was Finn. Alive and whole and stupid and brave and reckless and brilliant and... alive. He felt himself slump and Finn let him go, gently, easing him back into the chair. Crouching down to stay in his eyeline.

Poe took another deep breath in through his nose, letting it out again long and steady. _Just like we practised_. His head still felt like it was spinning, and his throat was still tight and his heart was still hammering in his chest. But all the faces were gone, except for one. The screams were replaced by the clicks and beeps and low grinding noise of the ship. 

“What happened?” Finn asked, and Poe would have laughed if he could have, because so much had happened. But Finn didn’t mean that. He knew what had happened, of course he did, he’d been there. He was there. He took another deep breath and forced out the words.

“It’s nothing,”

“Looked a lot like something,” said Finn, 

“It’s just... a thing that happens to me sometimes,” said Poe, another breath, and another, “I’ll be fine,” and another. In and out. _Just like we practised_ , his mother seemed to say, softly in his ear.

Finn didn’t look at all convinced. He tried again, swallowing to try and smooth out his voice.

“Really,” he said, reaching out a hand to clasp Finn’s shoulder in return. He hears Chewbacca say something, and he’s not sure what it is, but he leaves them, pausing only flick a few switches, and to gently scoop up his little pal from where it had been staring wide eyed at the whole scene from the pilot’s chair.

They sit - and squat - in silence for several minutes, neither apparently sure what to say to one another. In the end it’s Poe who speaks first, finally breathing normally again, and suddenly aware that Finn is really there, and that there was someone to thank for that.

“How’s Rose?” he asked gently, feeling bad that he hadn’t checked in sooner. 

He’s not completely sure why, but something in Finn’s expression makes his chest ache all over again. 

“She’s uh, she’s going to be fine, I think,” he said after a moment. 

“Should... should you get back to her?” he asked, not sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“Actually,” Finn replied, looking sheepish, “I got told to go away. The doctor wanted to look her over properly. I think I was getting in the way,”

Poe wanted to smile. He could imagine Finn hovering around the doctor, all concern and good intentions. He could imagine his face falling when he realises he’s hindering her. He doesn’t smile.

“Actually I was looking for you,” said Finn after a moment, and Poe blinked with surprise.

“For me?”

Finn nodded. Poe shifted in his seat, pulling himself upright. Finn followed the movement, but didn’t move himself until Poe leant forwards to grip his shoulders again and steer him up. He lets go and points at the other, now vacant chair. That felt better. He felt less like an invalid. More like a pilot. Even if he’s in the wrong chair. Though, thinking about it, he’s not sure he would mind being co-pilot for Finn.

He nodded himself, a gesture for Finn to continue.

He looked less comfortable in the pilot seat than he had crouching down.

“We didn’t really get anytime to talk... after.” he said, “Lot happened,”

Poe swallowed around the still present pain in his throat, but managed to nod.

“I’m sorry we didn’t...”

“It’s not your fault!” Poe said, “I should have known better. You should never have had to go back there Finn. God I’m the one who should be sorry,”

“If it’s not my fault. It’s not your fault,” said Finn, folding his hands in his lap and hunching over them, “And I chose to go back there. We did what we thought we had to.”

True though that was. It didn’t make the loss that had followed any easier to bare. He’d let himself run the scenarios through his head, he knew that even if they’d all made it to Crait, they would likely have been found, and with no response from allies around the galaxy, their overall chances of survival were just as minimal. But anything felt better than what they’d ended up with. 

“There’s something I need to tell you,” said Finn, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Poe looked up at him curious.

“Thing is, we got off that Star Destroyer with only what he had at the time and...” Finn paused, looking thoroughly distressed now. Poe wasn’t sure quite what made him do it, perhaps that Finn had brought him out of his distress, perhaps that he simply wanted to do it. He reached across and took Finn’s hands in his and, looking him straight in the eye said. “Finn, whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me,”

Finn gave him one last sad look before his head drooped. 

“I lost the jacket,”

Poe blinked.

“I’m sorry,” said Finn, sounding so utterly, heart-breakingly, sincere that it made Poe want to cry. To think that after all that had happened, all they had been through together over the last day, that Finn would have room in his heart still to worry about that jacket. Poe let out a slightly choked laugh. Every time he thought he had a handle on Finn, he just proved him wrong all over again.

Perhaps Finn interpreted his laugh as a sad or angry sound, because on hearing it it, he immediately launched into the tale of how he’d tried to make it fit under the uniform his stole but it was just too bulky, that they’d meant to retrieve it from where it had been stashed on their way out, that they’d been captured... Poe pulled on his hands to get him to stop talking.

“Finn,” he said, “It’s okay. It’s just a jacket,”

“No it isn’t!” Finn insisted, “It’s...” he seemed to be casting around for the right words. His eyes flew around the cockpit as if that would help. Eventually though they came back to Poe. He sighed.

“It’s _your_ jacket,” he said, as if that explained everything. As if, it’s connection to Poe made it something more than a few strips of leather, already ripped apart and crudely sewn back together.

“I thought we established it was your jacket,” said Poe, 

“Ours then,” said Finn firmly. Poe conceded with a nod. 

“You know it was the first thing anyone ever gave me.” Finn said after a moment, and Poe felt his chest clench, because of course. “Except a name. I guess you gave me that too. I don’t think I ever really said thank you for either. And I know it was just a jacket to you but to me...” he stopped, staring out at the passing universe, and Poe understood. To Finn it was more than just a gift, it was a physical memory, a symbol of the day he finally won his freedom.

After a few moments of silence Poe asked quietly, “Do you know how many times I thought I’d never see you again today?”

Finn blinked at him, apparently confused by the change of subject. He shook his head.

“Four.” said Poe, letting go of Finn’s hands to count them off on his own, “When I hadn’t heard from you from Canto Bight for hours. When we were fighting to buy you time. When you got captured. And when you nearly drove that damned metal junk-bucket into a First Order canon.” Finn looked away at that. It had been a damned stupid thing to do and Poe knew that twenty four hours ago he’d probably have made the exact same decision.

“I lost you four times today.” he said, he heard his voice catch, and he looked down at the floor of the ship, momentarily unable to look directly at the man across from him as he continued “Let me tell you, it didn’t get any easier each time. Actually I think it got worse.” he took another deep breath.

“I know,” he heard Finn say, “When those Stormtroopers appeared... I thought...” he didn’t finish. But Poe knew what he had meant to say.

“But you’re here,” he said after a pause, and he looked up again to find Finn meeting his gaze, it almost made him want to look away again. Like staring too hard into sunlight. He didn’t look away. He said “Point is. I know that jacket meant something to you. And it wasn’t just a jacket to me either. It was something we shared, a token, a reminder. It’s always hard to lose something so special. But you’re here. And you get to keep living, and you get to keep fighting. To make new memories. I’d have thrown that jacket in an incinerator myself if I knew it’d mean you’d come back to... to us,”

Finn stared back at him, and his expression became difficult to read, but there was something steady in his eyes, something sure, that hadn’t been there before. 

“That goes for you too,” he said, just as Poe had been about to give up trying to guess what was going on in his head. The words, coming from him, felt something like sudden engine failure in an X-Wing going at full speed. 

“Huh?” was the unintelligent response he was able to muster, and Finn fixed him with his serious gaze again.

“You’re here too,” he said, “And you get to live, and to fight, and make memories and all of that.” Poe stared at him, and for the first time in... how long had it been anyway? He wasn’t sure. It felt like forever. For the first time in forever, he felt like he could smile. Though it came with the prickling of tears and he looked down at the floor again. When he looked back up having let them fall, Finn had turned politely away as if to give him space.

“You’re a good man Finn,” he said, echoing a sentiment from what felt like a lifetime ago, and he thought he saw the beginnings of a smile on Finn’s face too.

He pulled himself upright, leaning back into the co-pilot’s chair, joining Finn in staring back out at the passing galaxy. He felt like some small part of him had been rebuilt. A foundation of hope. He wondered if Finn felt the same. He hoped so.

He wasn’t quite ready to face everyone else yet. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever be fully ready. But, he thought, maybe he didn’t need to be alone either. After all, this was how they were going to come through this, they were going to build each other back up piece by piece, and as they did their movement would build too. That was their spark.

He would be a part of that alongside the others when the time came. For now he had Finn and that was more than enough to start with.

**Author's Note:**

> As someone who suffers from severe anxiety, but who somehow manages to keep that together in times of crisis, it was interesting to me the idea that someone like Poe, who always seems to have it figured out, might in his quieter moments, actually suffer anxiety attacks. Not just because of the terrible things that have happened to him (though they factor in) but just generally that this is something he has suffered for a long time, and something that his mother used to help him through.


End file.
